Trinity Therapy

Tag: depression

  • Counselling Explained: Advice

    He Didn’t Help Me at All — He Just Sat There and Listened

    A blurred image of a young man talking to someone with his back to the camera
    What to expect from your counsellor

     

    One of the most common things I hear from people after they’ve tried counselling is this:

    “They didn’t do anything. They didn’t tell me what to do, they just sat there and listened.”

    And usually, it’s said with disappointment.

    That reaction makes complete sense. When something in your life feels broken, painful, or out of balance, of course you want someone to help you fix it. Most of the time, when we ask for help, we’re used to going to an expert — someone who knows more than us, who can tell us what’s wrong and what to do next.

    Doctors diagnose.

    Plumbers fix.

    Teachers instruct.

    Coaches direct.

    Counselling can feel confusing at times because it doesn’t always work like that.

    A common misconception about counselling

    Many people come to counselling expecting:

    Advice

    Answers

    A plan

    Someone to sort things out

    And again — that expectation is not wrong. It’s human.

    But counselling isn’t about being fixed. And counsellors aren’t there to take over your life or make decisions for you. Irvin Yalom, a counsellor, once stated “(Counselling)… removes the illusion that someone else can live your life for you.”

    In fact, something important (and sometimes uncomfortable) happens early on in counselling:

    you realise this person isn’t going to rescue you.

    Not because they don’t care — but because that wouldn’t actually help.

    So, what is a counsellor doing if they’re not advising you?

    At the heart of this discussion is the strong belief that:

    ‘You are the world’s leading expert at being you.’

    No one else has lived your life, had your thoughts, felt things in your body, or navigated your relationships the way you have. Even if things feel incredibly messy inside right now — you still know more about your inner world than anyone else ever could. Because you’re there.

    Counselling is about creating the space where you can begin to hear yourself again — sometimes for the first time in a long time.

    That listening you experienced? – That was the work!

    But isn’t that just… doing nothing?

    It can feel that way from the outside.

    But being deeply listened to — without judgement, without interruption, without someone steering you toward a solution — is surprisingly rare. And it’s often in that space that things start to shift.

    Not because someone told you what to do.

    But because you started to understand yourself differently.

    That’s why many counsellors are careful about giving advice. Not because advice is bad — but because it can quietly take something important away from you: your sense of agency.

    The goal isn’t to replace your inner voice with mine.

    It’s to help you trust your own again.

    Different counsellors work in different ways

    This part really matters.

    Counselling isn’t one single thing. There are many different approaches, styles, and ways of working — and counsellors themselves are as individual as thumbprints.

    Some counsellors are more structured.

    Some offer tools or techniques.

    Some focus heavily on listening and reflection.

    None of these are automatically “right” or “wrong”.

    What matters is fit.

    If you sit with a counsellor and it doesn’t feel right — that doesn’t mean counselling isn’t for you. It may simply mean that counsellor isn’t for you. And that’s okay.

    I am a huge lover of boardgames and often think; There’s a boardgame out there for everyone — you just might not have found the one you love yet. Counselling can be the same. Sometimes it takes a little shopping around.

    And if you keep trying and nothing seems to fit?

    That’s not a failure either.

    Sometimes it’s about timing.

    Sometimes expectations need gently adjusting.

    Sometimes the work you’re ready for isn’t the work you thought you needed.

    These are not flaws — they’re part of the process of understanding yourself.

    So, when is counselling helpful?

    Counselling can be really helpful when:

    • Something inside feels out of balance
    • You feel disconnected from yourself
    • You’re stuck, overwhelmed, or repeating patterns
    • You want to understand why things feel the way they do

    If what you need is practical advice — like how to hang a door — I can recommend a brilliant expert for that. But if what you want is a space to talk about you, with someone who will really listen, understand, and walk alongside you while you figure things out in your own way — that’s where counselling comes in.

    If any of this resonates with you, you’re very welcome to get in touch with us here at Trinity Therapy.

    You don’t need to be fixed.

    You don’t need to have the right words.

    Sometimes, you just need the time and space to be you — and to appreciate the ‘you’ that’s already there.

    (And yes — I know I said “you” a lot. Turns out this work really is about you.)

  • New Year new you

    Counselling Service in Mid and West Kent
    counselling room with sofa and blanket, winter scene outside the window
    Image created by AI

    New year, new you? (or maybe just… ‘you’)

    January is often framed as a time for reinvention – but that pressure can quietly fuel self-criticism rather than growth. Counselling can offer a gentler alternative – one rooted in self-acceptance, reflection, and choice. When change begins with kindness rather than force, it becomes more sustainable, writes Trinity counsellor Oli.

    I’ve come to feel that January has adopted a strange reputation.

    It’s framed as a fresh start, a reset button, a chance to finally become the person you should be. New habits, new body, new mindset, new motivation. But by February, many people feel they’ve already failed.

    From a counselling perspective, January and February are also the busiest months of the year. That’s not an accident. There is a cultural pressure at this time of year to change quickly, to reinvent yourself, to leave parts of yourself behind — often without stopping to ask whether those changes are coming from within or from the noise around us.

    In many ways, January has become a kind of harvest season for self-criticism.

    Change can’t be forced (even when the calendar says so)

    In counselling, we understand that change doesn’t happen just because it’s a good idea – it happens when someone is ready.

    If someone isn’t internally ready, no amount of external pressure – New Year or otherwise – will make that change stick.

    This is why many resolutions struggle. They are often made because:
    • “Everyone else is doing it”
    • “This is what I should want”
    • “It’s January – now or never”

    But ‘should’ is not the same as ‘ready’.

    One hypnotherapist once described this beautifully: when helping someone stop smoking, she would ask how committed they were – in percentage terms. If they didn’t answer with 100%, the work would likely not hold. The part that wasn’t ready would resist, hesitate, or quietly pull things back to how they were.

    That’s not failure – it’s honesty.

    Self-acceptance isn’t giving up, it’s the starting point

    At the heart of person-centred counselling is the belief that people grow best in an environment of acceptance, not pressure. In his book On becoming a person, Carl Rogers captured this with one of his most quoted – and most misunderstood ­– ideas:

    “The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I can change.”

    This doesn’t mean “don’t change.”
    It means change grows best from kindness, not rejection.

    When we start from a place of:
    • “I’m not good enough”
    • “I need to fix myself”
    • “I must become someone else”

    …we are already working uphill.

    But when change comes from:
    • “I’m allowed to be human”
    • “I want something different for myself”
    • “This choice is mine”

    …it becomes more sustainable, more compassionate, and more real.

    The perfectionism trap (and social media’s quiet role)

    January is also peak season for comparison. Social media fills with transformation photos, productivity routines, wellness plans, and success stories. What we see feels like everyone else succeeding – when in reality we’re often seeing a very small percentage of people, amplified until it feels like the norm.

    For someone already living with anxiety, depression, trauma, or low self-worth, this can quietly reinforce the belief:

    “Everyone else is doing better than me.”

    Meaning that many resolutions unintentionally set people up not for growth, but for self-criticism when life inevitably gets in the way.

    January as a pause, not a push

    So, what if January wasn’t a launchpad… but a pause?

    A moment to stop and gently ask:
    • Am I heading where I want to go?
    • Does this still fit me?
    • What do I need more of – or less of – right now?

    Reflection doesn’t demand immediate action. It allows space, orientation, and choice. And if, after that pause, you decide you do want to change something, that change is far more likely to come from autonomy, not pressure.

    In counselling, we often see that people don’t need more pressure – they need permission.

    Gentle questions

    Instead of heavy self-analysis, here are a few gentle questions to mull over:
    • What’s something I’m being really hard on myself about right now?
    • What’s one thing I’ve actually handled this year – even if it didn’t feel perfect?
    • If my best friend felt the way I do, what would I want them to hear?

    These aren’t about fixing – they’re about relating to yourself differently.

    A different ending to the New Year story

    Maybe (just maybe), this year doesn’t need a strict resolution, a perfect plan, or a transformed version of you by February.

    Change that begins with self-rejection is rarely sustainable – or kind.

    Perhaps this year doesn’t need a reinvention. Perhaps it needs permission – to be human, to be unfinished, to be enough as you are while still openly curious about growth.